The Revolution
by Death2Ignorance
Summary: James and Lily Potter did not die as easily as Voldemort had hoped, yet the results were in his favor. Voldemort rises to power as Harry grows up with His Godfather to become the leader of a revolution.


There are some nights when the darkness seems absolute. Where it envelopes your entire being, swallowing you whole, choking all that exists in you. It is on such nights when malevolent intentions come to fruitation. This night, October 31, was such a night.

The cloaked figure moved effortlessly through the eternal darkness, confident that he could not be seen. He approached the large house that was home to the baby that was prophesized to be his mortal enemy. The parents of the child were not to be taken lightly. He had seen and fought them both multiple times. Each time admiring the skill in their form, each time reveling in the thrill of battle, and each time denied his victory. But not tonight. Tonight he had the element of surprise. Tonight, he would be victorious. Tonight, his immortality would be complete. These wizarding fools believed themselves to be safe.

Voldemort stopped at the articulate oak door, and pulled out his wand. His adrenaline began to flow as anticipation for battle began to run rampant in his veins. He paused briefly and his eyes closed as if in concentration. Then his eyes snapped opened and his wand began making intricate designs which stayed alight pushing back the darkness ever so slightly. Magic hummed in the air as the runes dismembered the wards surrounding the house. Obviously satisfied with his work, Lord Voldemort smiled to himself, now the only thing between him and the Potters was a locked door.

With a simple flick of his wrist, the door made an audible click. Smiling once more, Lord Voldemort reveled in his magic as he did before every fight. His mind wondered through the vast oceans of knowledge he held. Spells, hexes, curses, counter curses the list went on without end. Calling to the forefront of his mind the spells he intended to use, he straitened himself and blew open the mighty door with a burst of magic. When the dust settled, he began his grand entrance, only to come face to face with a nine-inch maple and dragon heart string wand.

(Inside the potter house five minutes prior)

"Smile Harry" James said, before the entire room was momentarily flooded with a flash of light. A picture of Harry dressed in a little dementor outfit while being held by an adoring Lily Potter. It was a beautiful family moment and even the gold fish on the counter seemed to be bubbling with happiness.

The moment could not last, however, as a single noise killed all the joy and happiness in an instant.

-Click-

It was the sound of a lock turning over. Instantly both Lily and James became serious while little Harry just looked upon the scene with curious gaze, unaware that the most powerful wizard alive wants him dead. His parents however reacted immediately. James seized his wand and hid behind the corner of the 'T' shaped hallway that led to the door, while Lily took young Harry upstairs to the nursery. It was there that she first heard the explosion of wood. It was there that she heard a few mumbled words, and it was there the she would here the screams of pain from her husband.

(With James)

James had expected such an entrance from an assassin sent by the dark lord. All of his followers were too self-assured and overly confident. It was because of these thoughts that when he came face to face with Tom Riddle himself, he was too shocked to cast even a simple stunner.

"Hello, Potter. Tell me is young master Harry present?" said the dark lord, as if conversing with an old friend and not someone who had their wand aimed at his head.

James' face suddenly contorted in rancor. His nervousness was buried under the "lions" courage.

"You shouldn't have come here tonight, Riddle." he roared

"Do not confuse your place, Potter," Voldemort spat, "you will not live to regret your choice of side in this war blood traitor."

Both James and Voldemort tried to cast the first spell. James, however, was faster.

"Reducto!" James shouted. At point blank range, such a spell would cripple any person regardless of how magically powerful they were. However Voldemort didn't even flinch as a hazy purple shield covered his face and deflected the spell and with such a short distance between the two men, the spell was deflected back towards James where it crashed hard into his left shoulder shattering the joint and rendering the limb completely useless.

The force of the blow sent him sailing straight into the wall behind him, where a gurgled scream escaped his lips as he felt a rib crack. Despite his current situation James couldn't help but grin. 'Damn I pack one hell of a punch!'

Already battered and beaten, James rose from the ground with surprising agility, firing off two more spells, humming with deftly controlled magic.

The purple haze that had saved the dark lord prior dissipated when the first spell hit, thus forcing Lord Voldemort to produce a powerful shield using his own mastery of magic to save him from the deadly spell. With two skilled warriors casting spells in such small space, the only noise let off was the impact the spells had on the various chairs, furniture, and walls.

No words were muttered, because no words were needed. Not once during the fight did either opponent broadcast their spell in such a way. Both opponents fired numerous shots. Never staying in the same place long enough to see if the spell hit its target, instead they apparated with a loud crack, appearing at random then firing nearly blind and then repeating the process. However James' wounds were starting to take effect on him, having received numerous glancing blows, his condition was worsening by the minute. The fact that the man was even standing was nothing short of amazing. It was only the will to see his wife and child one more time that kept him going; fighting well beyond the means of ordinary wizards.

However, James Potter was dueling the strongest wizard of this century, and it was only a matter of time before he slipped up.

As James appeared and blasted off an advanced tri-cutting curse things began to change. Voldemort, although sustaining a few minor injuries centered on his legs, was plenty able to nimbly dodge the spell and counter with his own.

"Avada Kadavra." It was the second spell said throughout this entire duel, yet had it not been said it would have hit, James was caught off balance by the sudden change from apparition dueling back to combat dueling, and only by reacting to the name was he able to summon a coffee table to his aid. However as the coffee table exploded and slivers of wood and dust showered the area, a second spell burst through the debris.

The paper-thin purple curse hit James' right shoulder, slicing it cleanly off. The pain that was inflicted was horrifying, as his lungs propelled all available air into a terrifying scream. But the worse had yet to come.

Hearing his opponents scream gave the dark lord the pleasure he so desperately craved. When the dust settled, he saw Lord Potter's arm two feet away from the soon-to-be corpse. Yet the dark lord was not the kind to take mercy on his opponents, even the strongest of them. He respected the strong, yet he also feared them. Any with the power in proximity to Lord Potter was someone who simply could not live.

"Infinitus Lacero," Voldemort spoke calmly, his breathing slightly forced due to a cracked rib. Despite the dark lord's injury, the spell was beginning to take effect as a small laceration appeared on James' neck, making the Potter wince in pain. Then, suddenly, lacerations began spreading all over. They were paper-thin and cut no deeper than was necessary, to inflict maximum pain. Within seconds, over five-hundred cuts spewed blood from the eldest Potter's body.

James tried not to scream. He used all his willpower to not give the madman his pleasure, not to scare his wife and child, but he could only hold out for so long. The infinite cutting curse was a terrible way to die and he knew he was going to die.

Gradually the cuts began to get deeper, and after the first five seconds over four thousand lacerations had been made. It was at this point where an onlooker could not distinguish where one cut ended and another began. This was the point where James' will was finally broken and his screams where ripped from his throat, which only caused more blood to flow into his lungs. Ten seconds later, there were only two living Potters left.

(With Lily)

As soon as she entered the nursery, her nightmare began. She heard the explosion of their front door, and she could hear the astonished voice of James exclaim the name of their attacker. She felt her fear well up in her heart as the battle proceeded. The screams of her husband brought her to tears and her heart was torn from her chest, almost literally, when she heard her husband's dying gurgling screams.

It was only a matter of time now; he would come for her next. And then he would take her son from this world. Lily Potter, however, was not the type of woman who lost her cool in pressure situations. She had lost her husband and she wasn't about to let the same man take her son. Wiping the tears from her eyes she refocused her mind. Whipping out her wand, she began to chant in Latin, a slew of words that sounded primitive, as if it was a beginning form that would later be recognized as Latin, yet it was still distinctly unique. After the quick sentences in pre-Latin language, a tome appeared in her hand and opened. Immediately, Lily pressed her wand onto the left page, which was decorated with ancient writings some of which even she did not know. However the spell's effects were known to her, she would take whatever damage Harry sustained onto herself. He would live, she would die.

After invoking the tome's pages, she banished the book back to where it came. Not even a second later, her door blew open, and she remarked with the first thing that came to her mind.

"James was right. You are a fan of theatrics, Riddle. Do you not know how to simply use a door knob?" quipped the fiery red head.

Once again, the use of his name angered the dark lord, yet his voice conveyed none of the anger he felt. Only hatred for the Potter family. "Your husband is dead, and you are soon to follow, filth. It is your kind that pollutes my world. You should never have been allowed to study our gift." And once again, battle ensued.

However, this battle was very different. Voldemort struck first with the same paper-thin purple spell which was brimming with the magic put into it.

Lily saw the wand movement and recognized the spell instantly, and she hastily drew the correct battle rune to reflect the spell.

Voldemort was immediately made aware of his mistake at trying to fight her as he would James. Lily's use of runes would make this battle very short if he continued to make a mistake like that one. However, he too knew the battle rune necessary to reflect the spell and once he produced it, his spell was sent bouncing from one dueler to the other until the magic powering it finally dissipated. However, the two magic wielders were far from inactive during this time. While their shield runes were protecting them, each began an intricate sequence of runes.

Lily began by building her defense using runes whose origin date back to ancient Greece. From there she built upon her defensive foundation by expanding its range to include her child. One could describe her defense as similar to that of a group of Spartans defending themselves from an onslaught of arrows; their shields forming an almost impenetrable half circle.

Voldemort took notice of what his opponent was attempting to do, and instantly produced the necessary Macedonian runes needed to tear down her at defenses. The battle was not one that was devastating to the surroundings. The runes inscribed in the air hummed for seconds after being cast, until they faded from existence leaving only their magic behind. However, although there were no visible spells being slung, the runes' magic were constantly in conflict with each other. The magic hummed in the air as the two sides began an intricate dance similar to a chess match.  
Voldemort focused solely on separating young Harry from his mother's runic defense. Divide Lily's ward in two then block the witch from reinforcing Harry's defense thus leaving the child unprotected. Slowly lily's defense started to crumble. Just as Sparta, fell to Alexander the Great, so too did lily's defense fall to Voldemort. Then, in an instant, they were down. Voldemort had separated the mother from her child and the child from her protection.

Without hesitating, Voldemort casted the one spell that would insure the death of the infant.

"Avada Kadavra!"

It is a terrifying thing for a mother to see, the killing curse flying towards your first and only child. Time slowed, as her heart clenched with fear. Tears leaked from her eyes as she threw herself from her position, in an attempt to use herself as a shield. Had she been in a clear state of mind, she would have thought the act unnecessary. Her shield spell she casted earlier would ensure her child's safety. However, watching her child stare down a killing curse put her mind into a state of frenzy and thus she found herself diving in front of the emerald curse.

She watched as it got closer. She thought idly that the curse was the same intense green that she saw in Harry's eyes. Her thoughts wandered to places of happy memories, of things that she would never get to do, things she wouldn't get to see, of her future family that would never come to fruitation now.

She saw Harry viewing the Hogwarts express for the first time. Marveling in awe at its wonder, as excitement and nervousness overcame his face with the approach of his first year at the school.

She saw the curse get even closer.

She saw Harry bringing home a teenage witch, his first girlfriend.

It was a foot away from her.

She saw Harry on his wedding day. She and her husband watching in the aisle as proud as could be.

It was mere inches away.

She saw herself holding a baby girl. Her granddaughter. Emerald eyes met emerald eyes.

Then she watched in horror as the spell missed her, and continued on towards her son. She saw the self-satisfied grin on a madman's face, and then she saw nothing at all.

Voldemort grinned as he saw his curse connect with the boy. However seeing the boy still twisting from his spot on the open crib surprised the dark lord. He looked curiously at the boy. The Dark lord then looked towards the lifeless form of Mrs. Potter. He was perplexed and intrigued. His sharp mind instantly began working on the puzzle that had been laid before him. He knew he saw the curse impact with the child; who was crying rather loudly at the moment.

Growing irritated at not being able to think with the boy's insistent wails he flicked his wand at the child and once again silence reigned. He would not kill him yet. This child could be the key to immortality that he had been looking for. All he had to do is figure out how the boy had survived a curse with one affect and one affect only, death.

Still staring curiously at the odd scar left on the child, he let his mind wonder. He knew the mudblood had ample warning of his approach, his fight with the late Lord Potter had seen to that, but he was still at a loss. How does a curse hit one target, yet affect another unconnected target? Unless, unless the two were connected somehow? Could the mudblood have done something before his arrival? Was there such a spell that could connect two conscious beings and transfer spell affects onto one another? Moreover was there a spell that could reflect damage onto another? Imagine what he could with it. Horcruxes combined with this spell and an unlimited supply of servants volunteering to take injuries for their lord would ensure that he lived until the last remnants of this planet vanished.

So entranced was he by his own musing and the child's scar, that he did not even notice when another person joined him in the small room. However, when a second unknown person burst into the room and began the incantation of a spell, the young dark lord turned, barely able to dodge the spell in time. Taking the time to stand up, he regarded his opponents. The one who had fired the spell had untamed shoulder length black hair and an expensive but tattered black cloak. He should have known it was Bella's cousin who fired such a spell; it was after all a Black family spell.

Had it only been the overgrown dog he had to deal with, Voldemort would have happily killed the man and then the child. However, the black patriarch was backed by none other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. And in his current state of fatigue, he was not willing to risk his life, so only the child would die tonight.

"Avada Kadavra!" he shouted, his wand pointing towards the child. However, before the spell got two feet, a chair intercepted its path. The child still lay there unharmed, still attempting to scream, though the words died in his mouth. Voldemort cursed in his mind as his first attempt was easily foiled. The old fool was always interfering in his plans and this time was no different. Regaining his composure from firing the spell, lord Voldemort regarded his opponent. Serius' eyes were livid, filled with hatred and malice, his wand hand was twitching with an uncontrollable desire to start casting spells. And then it began. Serius and Voldemort each casting spells meant to do one thing and one thing only, to kill. Voldemort was being pushed further away from the child by the endless barrage of spells Sirius was sending his way. The man was like a crazed animal. fueled only by the grief over his friends' death Serius' spells were erratic, every spell was brimming with power and humming with ill-contained magic. In his heart, Voldemort knew he would not kill the child this time; however, his brain had not given up yet. He sent one last desperate, and foolish he realized later, killing curse flying towards the child. The curse was once more intercepted by Dumbledore and the child remained unharmed. However, the curse had left him flatfooted and unable to dodge the fiery curse that was sailing towards him. Throwing up his arms in a feeble defense, the flames burst upon his skin shredding, burning, and consuming his flesh. The pain was incredible yet he would not allow himself to scream. He had to get out of here now. He was outmatched, injured severely, and quite drained.

As Voldemort realized his unfavorable position he tried to apparate away, only to realize, in horror, that Dumbledore had not been inactive during Sirius's rampage and had put into place a very formidable anti- apparation ward. He was stuck here. Before it could even begin, his reign would be ended. The very thought of his own death terrified him to his core. It awoke within him his own fighting spirit, which was now fighting very recklessly in order to somehow manage an escape.

Then his problems worsened. With the ward up in place, Dumbledore was now fully participating in the fight. He was being battered from two fronts, barely able to keep his defenses up in time to protect himself. Gradually, he began to become too fatigued; spells started connecting to him, inflicting razor sharp cuts, more burns, and what seemed like an infinite amount of bludgeoning damage.

Fear was beginning to grip his heart. The cold terrors of his immanate death weighed upon him. Distantly, he still wondered about the mudblood's spell. However, soon his mind no longer felt anything but the curses that were hitting him, pushing him around the room like a ragdoll. Then, like a miracle at his most desperate hour, he saw his opening. With Dumbledore occupied fight him, he left Harry's defense, leaving the child wide open to any curse he could manage. However, in his current state, the power required to cast the emerald curse would drain him completely, killing the boy but leaving him utterly defenseless. And he needed energy to run. Because of this, all he casted was a laceration curse. Such a weak spell would never kill an adult, but he hoped that it would work on a baby who had a lot less blood to lose.

The spell made impact and instantly the fighting ceased. Voldemort wasted no time jumping out the window, the shattered glass accompanying him on his fall. He never made it to the ground however as he felt the pleasant sensation of leaving the wards boundaries. And with a very loud crack, he was gone, leaving Dumbledore and Sirius to tend to Harry's wound and grieve for their friends.


End file.
